


Tenebrous

by charliesummer7



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliesummer7/pseuds/charliesummer7
Summary: Life fucking sucks and you’re done.





	Tenebrous

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this today instead of LITN4. I’m sorry. Please don’t read if your triggered by suicide.

“Y/N! Let me in!,” Dean yells as he pounds on the bathroom door. His eyes are wide with panic as he tries to break down the door with his fists. 

You sit on the bathroom floor with your back pressed against the tub. Holding your head up is difficult and your eyes feel heavy. The light in the bathroom is too bright. 

“Y/N, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR,” Dean bellows, but he sounds so far away. It feels like you’re sitting at the bottom of the ocean. Eventually, Dean’s shoulder splinters the wood and he’s able to reach through and unlock the door. 

He races in and kneels next to you. His large palm cups your head and you can’t help but nuzzle into his hand. You’re so tired. 

“Hey, stay with me, baby girl. You gotta stay with me,” Dean hums at you trying to keep the terror out of his voice down. He lightly taps your face with his other hand in an attempt to get you to respond to him. You can only let out a pitiful whimper in response. “Y/N, I need to know what you took. What did you take?”

Your eyes flicker to his. They’re so beautiful and bright even when they’re filled with fear. You wish your eyes were as green as his. Unable to keep yourself up, you slump your head into his shoulder. 

He wraps an arm around your back and cradles your head into his chest. He prays that the ambulance gets here soon. He prays to Cas. “It’s ok, baby girl. Everything is going to be ok.”

The scent of whisky and gun powder fills your nose. Even in your state, your mouth tries to smile. He smells so fucking good. You need to tell him. 

“Dean...,”

“Yes, baby girl. I’m here.”

You try to turn your head, so you can look into his eyes again, but everything seems blurry and far away. Frowning, you try and discern his features. 

“Dean, I...,”

You think you can faintly hear him call your name as you fade into the darkness.


End file.
